Life Through The Eyes of Stacy

I always said when talking about men that I don't have a "type". That is true when it comes to his looks or what he makes or does for a living. All those things I take as they are when I love a man. I have never chosen a man for his looks and never for his money. Those things won't make us happy or make me feel safe and secure in the middle of the night or day when I am paralyzed by my own memories.They don't make two people feel closer or keep alive the love when things get old.Only real love and understanding can do that. When I fall in love its for the way he treats me. If he can be attentive, loving, giving and sweet then I know it in the first few minutes. It takes some time though to know if he will stay this way. I just cannot be with a man who is gruff, selfish or has no empathy..Not just for me but for all people... Sometimes for no reason I can explain I will cry. It doesn't happen very often but when it does its hard to shut down the pain.  It m...

A while back when I was seeing this wonderful man he wrote me a poem...I have never had someone write me a poem or any other kind of written dedication. This man, who will remain nameless, both read my words and,because he knew how much I loved poetry, wrote me an entire poem all about how he felt about me...He was so worried about whether I would like it...Honestly, he could have written ANYTHING at all and I would have loved it. Then when I read it I was blown away by just how wonderfully he expressed himself and just how much he loved me...The idea that he did something that was foreign to him and the time and thought it took to do it  makes me indescribably happy....Most men have trouble talking about how they feel but for him to let me know how he felt was so romantic and breath taking. Anyway, here is the poem...The most beautiful words I've read!!   She came from nowhere To share my world Why I do not understand There is a woman that I have met She l...

Broken so many times~ my heart it never really mended... Like a glass vase you try to glue back together but know you can't get it to look or feel  even close to what it once was. I put a kind of barb wire there- protected my soft and vulnerable heart by always pushing people away, shoving the hope aside and walking  against traffic. All too often I was as close to love as I was to the sun and as scared of its promise... All lies, I was certain, Love was as scary as any monster that I could ever dream to encounter. (Poor little Stacy, never really loved but forever deeply and desperately  loving... Once before she would feel every tiny winged creature of hope flying straight into her heart, leaving it open but soon learned to shield every one that was now hitting against her exterior  and getting zapped  to death... Never receiving a man's heart yet always giving more than she ever had a right to. Now empty and ach...

Whenever I have fallen in love in my life, when everything should feel easy and wonderful I seem to have always made it complicated and difficult. I either make it so tough for that person to love me by doing things like putting them to such high standards no one could ever compare or I warn them of everything I've done wrong in my life--or will--to see if it scares them away or I make myself  out to be someone that is aloof and almost uncaring about emotions and love. More often than I want to remember the "tests" I do unconsciously, weed out the less than loving friends. I am left feeling right and vindicated but very lonesome and sad. Not many but a special few have caught onto my "game" and called me on it. One in particular would work through every test just to show me how much he did care and he would tell me all the time that no matter what I do or say he wasn't going anywhere. So far he hasn't. I began our relationship by warning him about how ...

How do I describe this Love that blossoms within me for You? You are my Love, my Best Friend,  My Lover~ ~~My Everything.~~ My day doesn't truly begin until you say 'Hello'. or end until your words kiss me good night~ My thoughts of you are like butterflies I try to catch in a net~ All day long you wing around in my mind and forever you stay smiling in my heart. I am a poet yet the words that come to my mind to describe my Love for you, the very ones I have used to create prose about life and death and even the never ending question of life, are not grand enough and my pen is put to shame. I can write about anything but not you. Loving you has held my mind hostage and set my heart free. And I know now that Love before was nothing but practice or pretend because Now I have found Love that has taken me to Heaven and back again, I love you Baby 

This is a poem I wrote in 2005...I could have written it yesterday. I have forever *let men hurt and use me...because I have felt so unworthy of real men. I am lucky in this mess to have found real true love. Let Her Die   In the long shadow of night when the doubt has fallen like a suffocating blanket upon your heart why do you let her in? She has no right to be there among your thoughts. Free to roam but unaffected by your being, her intent is love. Still you have not denied her as you left the door ajar and a tiny light flickering. And you are the one that called her here, to your home in your head and into your bed. You have lent her a break in the dark, to drive off your loneliness. It isn't love that makes your thoughts turn to her it is a need to feel gratified by her passion for you. Does it keep you warm to know she aches for your touch? Does it fill a gap that the cold air has shifted to? In that same stretch of night she is broken for you. The lig...

My first day at the therapist. I am sitting on the couch in the middle of a great big office that is decorated with such beautiful dark mahogany wood around the windows and door frames  I am looking at a woman I've never met, pouring my heart out and trying to keep down the bile that climbs my throat.  I know that this is the person I will confide in over who knows how long with all my dreams and fears as well as all my dirty secrets. Of course with me I open up so easily that doing it almost has no meaning anymore. My story of abuse, rape and cutting comes from my mouth like a grocery list... I have said it so often I almost don't let in the reality that it is my past...Almost. Its the details that have wiggled their way out of my psyche after years of blocking them that has me crying. Today I've said it, all of it, listed in order of when the first man molested me to when I was 17 but she stops me before I can say another word. She tells me that she ...